Much Ado About Arda
by That Other Coin
Summary: The how, what, who, where and when of the Golden Trio ending up in Middle-Earth. Mostly pre fellowship, post Hogwarts but no next generation. Different conversations and circumstances that could occur upon their arrival. Some will probably get expanded into a 'proper' story later. Criticism welcome. Enjoy. (All unconnected one-shots)
1. Chapter 1

**Start Simple**

Imladris often played host to guests seeking assistance from the elves, be it medical, academic, political or Legolas couldn't take being around Thrandiul for much longer than five minutes without wishing to 'take his bow and shoot off certain appendages that the Elven King of Mirkwood considered vital to his masculinity'.

So Lord Elrond was used to offering reassurance and patience to visitors. Given that these new arrivals had just been summoned (kidnapped) from their home world by Saruman then imprisoned/attacked for refusing to do Sauron's bidding and consequently rescued by an also imprisoned Gandalf via giant eagle – he felt they deserved it more than most.

Both he and Gandalf also felt it was best to get to the bottom of why Saruman had abused his powers so horribly just for the chance of being aided by these three teenagers. Yes, they had magic, but from what Harry, Ron and Hermione had said they came from a world full of wizards. Why not pick older, more experienced ones? What made them appear special in to him? They didn't want power, were utterly opposed to evil and had a strong sense of justice – these must have been flaws to someone like Saruman who had succumbed to Sauron's offers.

Only Gandalf, Glorfindel and he were present for the informal meeting in his study because he didn't want any of them overwhelmed by outnumbering them. Gandalf was present as a fellow wizard and escapee. Glorfindel, as the only elf to be returned from the Halls of Mandos, was someone whom may be able to emphasise with the strangers more than most. He was there because he was far too interested to delegate this particular task to Lindir, plus it was his study.

He examined the teenagers after introducing Glorfindel, puzzling over Saruman's choice. They looked to be opposites of each other. The unofficial leader appeared to be Harry, with hair as dark and messy as ruffled raven feathers and eyes a brilliant green he'd never seen before, that seemed to absorb details from around him. Hermione had a thick mane of light brown hair and brown eyes that had lingered on his bookshelf as she walked to the couch, cueing amused smirks from the boys. Ron, who was covered in freckles with the most ginger hair he'd ever seen and bright blue eyes, seemed very protective of the other two. They'd opted to sit together on a sofa over separating without hesitation. They each looked young but as a half-elf, he knew how looks could be deceiving in that area and their eyes showed experience in assessing their surroundings.

They were each polite, but restrained. Elrond needed his many years of experience to see the tension rolling off them but the signs were there, despite the mutual attempt to relax their body language. Harry sat far too still, Ron's ears were slightly pink and Hermione was gripping Ron's left hand with her right tightly. No doubt ready to reach their weapons in an instants notice.

"Knowing why Saruman picked each of you to summon to middle-earth may tell us a lot more about his plans than what he actually said aloud" Elrond began, "are you willing to share a little about your selves?"

"I think we can manage that, though I'm not sure where to begin to be honest" Harry responded carefully, but he smiled with real warmth and the other two relaxed slightly at his to tone.

Elrond smiled wider in response.

"Maybe we should with the basics, how old are you?" not wanting to pry too fast too soon

"17 – We just came of age in our world; we're in the same school year as well." Harry answered him again; Elrond filed away that he was unofficial spokesman of the group. He also felt it was a good sign that Harry offered more than the bare minimum of information in his answers.

"Your obviously very close to one another, how did you become friends?" he asked

For a second, each member of the trio seemed to shift a bit closer to one another in response to the question. Elrond was immediately intriqued and what with Gandalf chewing on his unlit pipe and Glorfindel leaning forward slightly, he could tell he wasn't alone. None had expected anything of importance this early.

"Ah, well, we met when we were eleven" Harry's green eyes flickered to his left where his friends sat; both wore smirks "Ron's older brothers's introduced us two on the train –pretty standard, to be honest" he began.

Ron had to look down with a cough that may have been a snort; Hermione seemed to fight down a grin at the sound. Harry seemed equally amused, but also with an odd mix of exasperation and trepidation. His face looked how Elrond suspected his own did after Gandalf made him do something dubious for the sake of an old friend and now he was considering the consequences.

"And Hermione?" Glorfindel prompted.

"Hermione, right," He seemed to steel himself slightly "does middle-earth have trolls?".


	2. Chapter 2

**N.B I own nothing. **

**takes place after "the hobbit" but before Frodo moves in . . .**

**xxx**

**A Truely Unexpected Party**

Ron shifted uncomfortably in a much too small armchair. It reminded him of past "tea parties" with his little sister which, until confronted by this inferal midget seat, he had done so well at repressing; an inpressive feat living with the twins. Rather strange now he paused to think about it. Ah, but then they'd gotten stuck there with him, he recalled with a smirk.

He shook the image out of his head and stared at the odd little man – hobbit, in fact – who had been so accommodating when himself, Harry and Hermione tumbled out of his fireplace.

To Ron, Bilbo Baggins seemed rather odd. Reaction to random wizards appearing in his unlit hearth aside, his clothes seemed to match his front room a bit _too_ much for one thing. Weird. Not that his clothes or home looked bad per se, it was just they were a bit too prim and fussy for someone with Bilbo's apparent Just Go With It attitude. Like comparing Aunt Muriel's house to the Burrow, ornaments rigidly in their place and God forbid you change anything, _the horror,_ in onevs gnomes in the back garden of the other. The two just didn't go together. So Ron wondered why Bilbo was living in a world of dollies and embroidered waistcoats with matching handkerchiefs. Hermione was liable to call him tactless if he asked, however, and so he turned back to the conversation without comment.

"Wait, so you're telling us wizards here just traipse all over Middle Earth helping people on adventures?" Harry asked incredulously. For someone who had quietly suggested they spend some time living quietly at Bree for some long awaited peace – not five minutes ago, while the hobbit made tea in the other room, - Ron reflected that Harry sounded rather excited.

"Gandalf does certainly, though he's also very wise and will offer council to those who ask and even some that don't " Bilbo answered with a fond smile "from what I know of Radagast the brown, he sticks to his animals – but he'll certainly help if he sees anyone in need. Saruman the white" Bilbo's forehead creased slightly here "I'm not sure what he does really, but he's on the white council and wise as well, I suppose. As for the two others, I honestly haven't a clue"

"A Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin" Hermione mused, a bit gleefully.

Judging by his blink that response had sounded like gibberish to Bilbo. Ron could sympathise, a lot of Hermione's answers sounded like gibberish to him too. He cut in before the hobbit could ask, unwilling to hear more "Hogwarts: A History" quotes that would no doubt confuse their host further. In spite of dollies, Ron rather liked the hobbit.

"Don't worry, mate, one time I had to consult three separate school books just to understand a letter she sent me one summer" he told Bilbo, looking at her fondly.

"You knew where to find your school books during summer?" Hermione asked in a playfully dubious tone "I thought you were under the impression they were kept in the carriages on the way to Hogwarts"

"Percy's old one's actually. Fred and George were doing an –"

"-Experiment? On books!" she sounded scandalized. Ron exchanged a grin with Harry then sent a wink at Bilbo, who was looking rather entertained by now.

Bilbo was actually thinking of a time that particular tone being used due to the ill treatment of Belladonna Took-Baggins'es plates. How he'd changed from his last unexpected party!

"I believe "Voyaging with Vampires" bore the brunt of the attack"

Hermione turned pink, Harry muffled a snigger, and Ron congratulated himself on keeping a straight face. He counted it as a victory when Hermione returned to confusing the hobbit.

"Think these wizards need any Gryffindors?"

In sixth year, professor McGonagal had asked "why when anything happens, is it always you three?" her Scottish accent even stronger than usual from frustration. Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. _This was why._

When it came to running headfirst into danger they were as bad as each other.

xxx

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	3. Chapter 3

Strider isn't the only one meant to meet the hobbits in Bree. No one told Frodo.

Part two will have Hermione.

**A Meeting in Bree**

Frodo Baggins was surprised the gateman was red-haired and so tall – taller than Gandalf even – according to Sam's old Gaffer, Bree men were generally short by big folk standards with much darker complexions from outside work than this freckly young man had.

But really, he'd seen so little of the world beyond the Shire's border, he couldn't expect all big folk to look the same, hobbits certainly didn't. Moreover the strangers' appearance was hardly a matter of importance and the man let them in with so little trouble. He was even walking them to the Prancing Pony, his shift had just ended and it was on his way home. It was certainly a relief to the hobbit to find such hospitality outside the Shire. Frodo felt guilt stir in his empty stomach for lying to the kind man.

Then he held him back with an amused smile, after Sam, Merry and Pippin rushed through the doors.

"Well Mr. Underhill, welcome to Bree, and may I add that whenever a fake identity is needed, it is always advisable to pick a real person's name. It is, after all, easier to invent someone if you already know a bit about them".

Frodo was still spluttering out denials as the red-haired gateman turned on his heel and walked away whistling.

xxx

A short while later. Frodo's eyes widened in surprise as he fell backwards mid-song, his arms wind-milling madly, torn between an attempt to find some semblance of balance and to catch the ring as it was flung above him.

His fall stopped abruptly as an arm caught him clumsily round the waist and set him to his feet. Having kept his eyes focused on the ring automatically, Frodo stared in astonishment as a pale hand darted into his line of sight and seized the ring inches before it fell onto his own forefinger.

"Steady on, mate" an amused voice which he recognised as the barman's said quietly, close to his ear. "It wouldn't do for you disappear on us".

Twisting round to look up at the man with wide eyes, Frodo felt a rather horrible urge to snap "that's mine" at his rescuer rather than thanking him as his deeply ingrained hobbit sense of politeness dictated he ought to. He shoved aside the nasty urge almost as soon as it stirred within him. But it frightened him deeper than he cared to admit. Like when Gandalf had thrown the ring into BagEnd's fireplace, the ugly possessive anger which swept over him about what ought to be just a chuck of shiny metal was was unnerving.

"Thank you" he was pleased to hear his admittedly shaky voice say instead.

"My pleasure" The stranger replied jovially "though I've messed up your waist coat, master hobbit"

Frodo frowned downwards in confusion as the man's hands straightened his clock for him. Bilbo had said big folk occasionally babied him on his travels due to his size (matching that of their young) but, really, he wasn't so childlike as to appear in need of help dressing. Still contemplating the Ring's apparent hold on him, he opted to stay quiet, least he do something foolish. Part of him consoled himself that he'd been unsettled by the gateman's oddness and Merry's loud mouth. A familiar weight dropped into his pocket.

He jumped in sudden understanding, smiling at the man's subtlety and got a wink in return.

"My shift just finished, Strider, I'll get us some drinks" Strider nodded his agreement. The man wandered back to the bar after grabbing a Strider's empty tankard.

As him and Strider waited for his return, his fellow hobbits finally burst through the crowd to check on him – an impressive feat when you were at least two feet shorter than everyone in it.

"Are you okay Mr Frodo?" Sam asked anxiously, while he jumped slightly to get on the rickety chair that was sized for a much taller someone.

"Strider's friend has excellent timing, I'm quite well" no need to mention how the Ring had unsettled him. Then barman's word returned to him – the barman knew of the Ring! Frodo abruptly whirled round to stare accusing at Strider "why on middle-earth did he say "disappear on us"? Is he a Spy? How would some barman from Bree know of the ring's power? And his timing was awfully convenient" he ranted

The same amused tone from before sounded behind him "I'm not from Bree originally, master hobbit, and I'm no spy either," a wry grin flitted across his expression "not at the moment anyway. That first question you can answer, I'm sure. Blame my timing on old habit of catching shiny things and "sheer dumb luck""

Strider snorted "A possessor of"sheer dumb luck" might be the most accurate description I've ever heard for you, Harry"

"I aim to please".

xxx

Thanks for reading. Reveiws/Criticism Welcome


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the wait, life got in the way a bit. Thanks for Reviewing, following and favouriting**

**Also I did some research - it was normal for families to share one room in medieval times apparently, privacy wasn't as huge of an issue - but Bilbo's rather rich so to Frodo it would seem a bit worse, it wasn't my intention for him to come across as a snob, he's just not used to well-loved possessions**

**I Own Nothing**

**Still in Frodo's PoV, but if you'd like to guess the bit where magic is used feel free . . . **

**Thank you alexma for telling me how to fix the format issues the last draft had!**

XXX

A Meeting in Bree, Part 2

Initial distrust aside, it was eventually possible for the ranger and the barman to convince Frodo that it was best for the four companions to use the hobbit-sized room as a decoy, and to instead rest that night at Harry's home.

"You may not have put on the ring – that would've been much worse," Stider had argued "but Bill Ferny is a tricky sly sort. He's been on the lookout for hobbits passing through and he scurried off earlier – he could be telling anyone anything from the second he left the pub

"But he doesn't even have proof-" Sam had cut in.

"In situations such as this one, lack of proof either on either can make things even worse – desperation forces rashness, and believe me any minions of Sauron's will be desperate slaves to his will." Harry answered with a grimness Frodo wouldn't have attached to the man who'd stopped his fall earlier.

Frodo suspected a slightly tipsy Pippin was convinced by his stomach at the mention of there being provisions (food) for a journey without the Grey Wizard ready there. It was probably a good thing the Ringbearer had a bit more self-restraint than his intoxicated cousin, but it did slow negotiations down a bit. Said negotiations had taken place in the hobbits room away from prying eyes and ears.

Ultimately the Prancing Pony's owner, Butterbur, convinced him to trust the strangers, however unwittingly – he gave Frodo a six month old letter from Gandalf. Strider recited the poem which accompanied his true name. Harry announced his favourite piece of clothing were socks. The answers were swift; with no trace of deceit implied by the manner they were given. Although, he couldn't help being somewhat thrown off balance upon hearing such a decidedly wistful tone in a conversation about socks.

Socks were strange things, Frodo thought, why did big folk need to wear what seemed like a hat for their feet year round? - And boots as well?! He had enough good sense inside him not to waste time babbling at that particular moment in time to actually bring this up. Strider probably wouldn't like it, Frodo reflected, he had said they were short on time. He need not have bothered. A tipsy Merry pondering the usefulness of socks – and stockings and boots and slippers - also slowed down negotiations a bit.

The Ranger of the North distracted Merry by asking how Pippin and his self had cause near chaos at Bilbo's one-hundred and eleventh's birthday party. Frodo was startled by the stranger's foreknowledge of the twos' past bouts of mischief, as well as offended on their behalf at the perceived lack of trust towards his own cousins. This too slowed down negotiations.

He was mollified by the reminder the duo had only been told to pick up two hobbits by Gandalf and therefore had to be sure of any additions that had discovered such secret information. Heat rose to his face at the subtle rebuke. Rangers specialized in stealth. Gandalf had explicitly stressed what was at stake if the truth should come out, and here he hadn't managed to leave the Shire undetected.

Later, it occurred to him that Strider had cut in with the question just to stop his cousins' inane babbling.

Sam still had his doubts. These he muttered loudly as they gathered their belongings. Bound by his word to stand by Mr. Frodo, he reluctantly followed the group the short way to the new accommodations for the night.

Opposite the Inn, was a side street filled with two-story buildings, this one a little less grand than what the hobbits had encountered so far in Bree. A street where the town inhabitants to actually live, rather than a place to attract travellers just passing through. The effect of white paint peeling here and there, combined with the windows that were a little bit smeared with grime, made it less eye-catching than the busier pub street. There was nothing that drew attention of passerby's to the house that Strider led them too. In fact, the whole building seemed to drift into obscurity

Entering through an equally ordinary door held half-open by Strider, Frodo spared a half second of hesitation to examine the narrow hallway. His first impression was that it was cleaner then he'd expected after judging the exterior, but not much else impressed him; it all looked a little bit lonely. Unlike Bag-End where he had spent most of his life, neither drawings nor maps adorned the walls and no knick-knacks decorated the sideboard, which was roughly crafted and held untouched post. It was cold too. It did not feel particularly safer than the Inn. All in all, he couldn't deny preferring the Prancing Pony – not that he was so incredibly rude as to say this aloud.

A glance over his right shoulder showed Harry giving Merry and Pippin a light shove over the threshold in order to manage securing the front door shut behind them.

"Quickly now" Strider commanded quietly, as he unlocked a door off to the left of the entryway. Frodo wondered why he had the key to Harry's house.

The hobbits scrambled inside to follow Strider up through a door leading to an equally shabby staircase. Oddly, the steps didn't creak. When they were halfway up a loud click followed by a thud broke the silence as the second door was locked behind them.

"We just rent out the one room up these stairs," Harry said to no one in particular "an old widow owns the whole building, she's got the first floor rooms to herself – can't manage the stairs, bless her – and the rest is filled with tenants. None of them ever come up here though, won't even know your here."

The green eyed man's chatter came to an end as he casually weaved his way to the front of the group in order to knock on the third door in a broken rhythm. Frodo had to raise an eyebrow at yet another additional security measure. Maybe this place was safer . . .

"The three of them call it 'Morse Code'" Strider said in reaction to the bafflement of the four.

Barely an instant after the final tap, the door swung open to reveal a young woman with big brown eyes. Frodo assumed she was one of the people Gandalf's letter had referred to as Harry's "roommates".

"Has Gand-" the immediate question died in her mouth as she surveyed the group.

"Still no sign of him" Strider confirmed in a grim voice.

Frodo couldn't deny himself a private sigh of relief at the honest concern in Strider and the woman's tone. He felt a stab of warmth watching them worry over his old friend's absence so genuinely.

Visibly steeling her shoulders, she schooled her expression and looked to the hobbits.

"Well, come in and sit down then, I expect you'll be tired after coming so far from home. Long journeys have a way of catching up to you once you reach your destination. Please try to be quiet; Ron's asleep in the other room. I'm Hermione Granger by the way. I expect two of you are Frodo and Samwise, but I'm afraid we weren't expecting anyone else" She said, curiously examining the hobbits as they entered.

Still the tipsiest hobbit, Pippin immediately straightened to full height at the implied enquiry.

"Peregrin Took, at your service, Miss Hermione" he bowed lightly "but everyone calls me Pippin."

"Meridoc Brandybuck, also at your service, Miss Hermione" not one to be outshone, he also bowed "everyone calls me Merry"

"Hermione offered the pair an amused smile, one that wasn't in anyway mocking of their clumsy show of manners, which increased Frodo's good impression of the young women.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance" She answered with small curtsy of her own before turning to the quieter hobbits.

After Sam's shy introduction of himself, he seemed embarrassed to hear himself excitedly blurt out "you almost look like an elf miss!" Hermione laughed and said she was a little too short to be an elf. Indeed, Frodo observed she was only around five foot six by his estimate – though his measure might be off when it came to big folk.

"Satisfied that Miss Hermione didn't seem shocked or irritated upon suddenly finding herself the host of four hobbits for the evening, Frodo looked away from her to subtly survey the room. He idly noted Harry slowly relocking the door, having held it open for his five guests to pass. Actually, was Strider a guest? The man in question seemed rather at home, with his hood down again and already sprawled into a battered, but cushioned armchair. Not completely off guard, however, the seat was in another corner, at an angle which gave him full view of the room and much of the street below.

The door opened in the middle of a long room, probably at least sixteen feet long and seven across. Perhaps cramped for three people, the room was a definite haven of practicality, with no space wasted. The stairs, having spiralled upwards, only cut a three foot square out the centre of the living space.

This interruption of the back wall conveniently divided the room in half – the left half they were clustered in making up a small kitchen/living area. Five skinny drawers and two cupboards were present beneath an ordered work top, with a bread-bin and glass case of butter on top and an array of cooking instruments hung on nails above. To the left of this was a small hearth with a couch in front. The whole room was without a dining table.

Next Frodo found his attention captured by a small book shelf next to where Strider was seated. While it didn't hold an awful lot of books – only around fifteen or so – it did hold the knick-knacks that were so painstakingly absent from downstairs. Only the bottom shelf held books, the second holding a stack of loose parchment with a strew-pot shaped (maybe a cauldron?) paperweight, three inkwells, a block of wood pencils and quills poking out stood upright in it as well as a large sewing basket and the highest a small pile of daggers and short swords and a violin. It was a far from the hearth as possible against the adjacent wall.

The right side of the room was blocked by a large divider spanning the all but two feet of the dividing half of the room, behind which quiet snoring could be heard. Again it looked was mismatched, with random carvings in each one – some holding simple animals, others trees or flowers and some even holding images of the window view.

Yes, there was no doubt about it; all of the things around Frodo tied together in his mind to scream one brutal fact. He had brought the One Ring into someone else's home.

Remembered horror from Gandalf's last visit to the Shire made him feel ill. The idea of Sauron's minions anywhere near his home, the home that was left to save repulsed him– and he had brought the Ring and thereby any dangers that came with it - straight into someone else's. His insides squirmed with guilt. What was he thinking? He'd merely done what Gandalf bid him – brought the Ring to Bree. Only now did he consider the people who live there. For him to act so selfishly, to only be fixated on the safety of the Shire.

More than that, he had just wanted the blasted Ring gone.

So deep was Frodo in his brooding, he didn't notice the snoring in the background had come to a halt until a familiar voice jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Merlin, Baggins, I reckon you could out brood Harry on a bad day" the ginger gateman sounded astounded as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

"Pippin's excited exclamation of "Your here!" was drowned out by Hermione's "Ron!"

" - and we don't love Harry for his brooding" he continued mischievously, ducking a flying cushion sent his way as he crossed the room " – we love him in spite of it".

Strider badly muffled a snort from the corner. Ron was cuffed round the ear by second cushion as he hastily unlocked the door.

"Anyway, I'm off" he shouted, slamming the door against the final cushion.

"The gateman lives here?" Merry asked blankly once he'd left.

"Met him, have you?" asked Harry rhetorically, as he retrieved the cushions. "Yes, he's covering a late shift to keep an eye out for the Black Riders".

"He knew my name was fake, but he walked us to the inn anyway" Frodo replied, now feeling a little less like every man in Bree and his brother had been waiting for his arrival. At least most of them knew and where approved of by Gandalf, and represented proof that Gandalf made back up plans.

"Of course he brought that up" Strider sounded irritated and fond simultaneously.

"Oh, ignore that ginger idiot," Hermione answered in a long suffering tone "after we met the other wizards in middle earth, he got the idea all the best wizards sprout random cryptic nonsense then call it advice . . . and he's being trying to emulate them when the mood strikes him ever since. It clashes with his rather straight forward personality."

After the initial excitement of finding out all but Strider out of their new allies were wizards had died down a little the hobbits went to retired to where three single beds were located on the other half of the room devider. None wanted to rob Hermione out of bed – so it was settled that Merry and Pippin would share, as would Sam and Frodo while Harry and Strider alternated a watch on the couch, with Hermione in the left over bed. By the determined glances Hermione was giving the dark shadows under Strider's eyes, Frodo had the impression she would probably let him sleep through his watch.

At this point, Frodo fell asleep wondering why "ginger" had sounded like more of an insult than "idiot"

**xxx**

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	5. Chapter 5

If anyone knows how to fix whatever went wrong in chapter four, I shall love them forever . . .

Really I have no idea what happend, I just can't undo it.

Neither swearing nor repeatedly clicking random buttoms work, so I've got nothing.

Sorry about that . . .

Cheers


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